ThaWizard♕

 "Have you mirandized him yet?" one of the  policewomen asked. "No, but I'll do —" wrestling the arrested fellow's arms to his back, trying to cuff him. "— just that now." Out of breath from the scuffle that had ensued, the cuffed dude asked, "What the hell did I do? Why are you arresting me?"  "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court. With these rights in mind, are you still willing to talk with me about the charges against you?" said with a smirk on her face. Flummoxed, he returned, asking for what he did, of which the policewomen warned those questions, at this point, won't help him in this situation.  "Oh well! I need to call my lawyer."  He said as he was tucked behind the unmarked Mazda SUV parked outside the pub.  "That'll be ar

A DEBATE ORGANISED BY THE WRITERS' LEAGUE TITLED "FEMINISM: THE BANE OF OUR  GENERATION" On the ideology that has been breaking the internet intermittently, that advocates for political, financial and social equality between both genders: Feminism. It has been a controversial issue between members of both sexes as to if Feminism is a right cause, if the women should be given the right to be an equal to the men, and if the femalefolk are, in fact, ready to step in and snatch the reins for themselves.  Many exposes have been written, many debates given and many theories propounded on Feminism, efforts have been made to unravel the mystery behind the unending argument on Feminism.  Today, I will like to present to you, a trio debate by The Writers' League, a body that comprises a collection of writers and bloggers. The topic of the debate is FEMINISM: The Bane Of Our Generation, and three writers will be doing justice to it. The first presentation, by Mi

Man has a medical condition. A chronic disease. It requires him to visit the hospital weekly, so as to stabilise himself. That's what has been keeping me alive so far, he use to say. He had no one but himself, though a successful builder. Weekly treatment costs a fortune. But he cares not, for he would do anything to be cured. Since life is no plain, it is full of ups and downs. Influx of contracts began to ebb. Gradually, he started to spend more than he saved, and eventually, more than he earned. He has a family. Caring mother. She does what she can, and as hopeful as he is. A wife, too, and three beautiful kids. They all hope he gets well soon. Obviously, they are all threatened by the crushing weight of this misfortune, at least in one way or the other. Two weeks ago, he got so broke, and he needed to go for his regular checkup/treatment. He had no hope of raising money for the hospital bills save asking from his wife.  He couldn't ask her for he already knew th

I had one of my favourite stupid moments some years ago with my cousins. It was that fine morning you woke up to realise only the three of you had the entire 4 bedroom apartment to yourselves. No school, it was vacation. The parents had travelled to your hometown for an occasion. So, you were practically free! No one to force you to take your bath, or brush your teeth or chide you for licking and swallowing toothpaste or yell at you for changing the TV channels from boring NTA to OGTV where there is a cartoon show or — you've caught the drift, right? Good. We had no problems. At least not for a while. It took us nearly 2 hours to concede with ourselves that we're hungry, and another 30 minutes to argue who'd cook before it became crystal clear none of us crooks knew how to cook. 😑 An hour of experiencing the full wrath of hunger, putting its hands on us individually, an emergency meeting was called by the Eldest. We brainstormed what we could cook strictly based on th

Some place far away, a man was seen coming out of an alley, clothes soaked in blood of whatever, a big black nylon hanging on one hand, also dripping of blood, leaving a trail behind as he walked towards the road, and an imprint of a gun holster was visible on his waist.  He had a lit cherry-flavoured cigar in his mouth, smoking while humming a song. As he stepped onto the road, he heard the sound of siren went off at some distance away. "Ah," He muttered, "They have gotten my message". He chuckled. Few seconds later, three cop cars came into view with a SWAT van trailing behind them. Pulling up around the man, many uniformed cops and SWAT team scrambled out with guns and took position. Calm as a sedated animal, the man dropped his cigar on the ground and stepped on it. "Gentlemen," he started, gesturing with  open arms. "You're welcome. I see you got my invite. But where is the Captain?" He appeared to be scanning the faces of the men i

This morning, I got to work just when a colleague was about to go grab some food. He waved at me to accompany him. And to be honest, I was a bit famished. Trekking from my home to my place of work as managed to sap the remaining energy I had. So I asked him if he'd get something for me which he agreed but with a clause: Everything must not exceed 200naira.  What an insult! I'd ask him why, a literally big boy like me, why will I eat food of 200naira? But hunger had tucked a dirty napkin into my pride's mouth. There was no way I'm letting this chance slip pass me. So, I agreed. Instantly, we crossed the road and strolled into the Mama Put adjacent our workplace. A very busy place especially in the morning, because of its proximity to the developing part of the town, quite a number of workers and farmers frequent the place. It is run by an elderly woman and her extremely gorgeous daughter. As we got ourselves a seat, I noticed my friend's uneasiness. H

Caveat: This is only my opinion and I would appreciate diverse views in the comment section.  Gather around! I am tired of listening to people rant about how they are being treated like they don't mean a thing DESPITE being with these unappreciative people through thick and thin, doing their biddings, out of love. Then a mistake ensues, and everything goes disarray. This is somewhat understandable as I have not been spared of such treatment, too.  Although it is often whistled around that love asks for nothing in return. Well...that's a story for some other time. So if you'd permit me,this is for everyone that feels less appreciated than what they actually deserve. Most times, it is not about the content. It is not about how eloquent or versatile one is!  I know ya'll have these wish lists you desperately want to make an imprint of the NIKE logo on every of its boxes, but sometimes, an honest attempt make things more interesting. Well, Maybe Not! But ever

"Heissss! Broda! Heisss!" I manage to hear this in the midst of the deafening silence that seem to have engulfed the area. I look back, obviously in search of the Son of Man that calls. 11:09am. The street is usually empty at this time of the day. Workers would have been at work few hours ago, every shops and mini stores opened, the children and teens that seem to fill it up are already in their various schools except for those that had only concluded the WAEC exams few days ago. "Who could be whistling and calling Broda?" I ask myself. "Well", I shrug, "If the person needs me, he will call again". As I turn to leave, a huge palm waves and beckons to me from a corner. It's a dude from the neighbourhood, I guess. I move towards him. "Come and help us to settle this, please." he says. I answer with a nod. I ask what the problem is as I stride to his side, and he points to a guy he is pinning to the wall with a han

So today, I went out with a buddy, Emmanuel Harjet that Winch Papa as we like to call him. It was a bright morning, the clouds had delivered their loads the day before, which makes the day filled with auspices, or not. Who knows.   We heard a new phone just came out, Tecno K9, it was the lastest in the streak of Tecno's new releases, and we expected it to be in the market a week ago. I guess we were misinformed and a little bit disappointed, we had to settle for a sister phone, K7.   At this point, I will love to properly introduce my friend and his talent. His name is, Ajetunmobi Emmanuel Seun. Atleast that's what his bank account name says, and his ID Cards and his application forms and his Facebook ID. But we fondly — or not — call him Harjet, from his surname, AJETunmobi. Then, like the generation of Slay persons, he stylishly introduced the H and R letters that, till this day, still look unconcerned and unattached with it name. One unique element that is inherent in